For the love of a dog

I have a dog.  Or should I say, she has me. My dog Laika is a 40-some pound long haired black mutt (with a few white patches thrown in), probably border collie mixed with something else. She's an American Fencejumper - comes from a long line of fence-jumping dogs (if you don't get the joke, I don't know what to tell you).  She's about six years old, but I don't know for sure.  I adopted her from the municipal pound in Leavenworth, Kansas, on December 30, 2004.   When I first saw her, she was in a 4x8 cage. The pound is located less than a mile from the famous federal penitentiary next to Ft Leavenworth, Kansas (now closed), so I  joke that I busted her out of the Big House.

I named Laika after the dog the Soviets put into space aboard Sputnik II, launched on November 3,1957, three weeks after the more famous Sputnik I. Laika (which means "Barker" in Russian), had the sad honor of being the first living creature to leave the earth for space.  I say sad, because she was in effect a casualty of the Cold War. We speak of animals making sacrifices for science, but that suggests the animals have a choice. The Soviets claimed the Sputnik II mission was about science, but Laika was sacrificed for geopolitical reasons. The Soviets originally claimed that the dog lived for days and was euthanized with poison food pellets. After the dissolution of the Soviet Union, however,  the truth of the mission became public.  The dog died within hours.  Instrument readings showed that her heart rate and temperature increased rapidly after launching, leading me to believe that she literally was scared to death.  As reported by Moscowanimals.org,  a leading member of the Soviet Space Program's scientific team, Oleg Gazenko, stated (in 1998) "The more time passes, the more I'm sorry about it... We did not learn enough from this mission to justify the death of the dog."  To the left  and above is a photo of a mock up of the inside of Sputnik II.  

I'm not the only one moved by the story of Laika, and I'm sure that I'm not the only person to name her dog after this involuntary Cold Warrior.  After the launching of Sputnik II, Soviet Block countries issued commemorative stamps, bubble gum wrappers, and cigarette packages honoring the dog  (much of that was for internal political reasons, I'm sure). 

In 2008, the Russians unveiled a a memorial to Laika in the Space City, in what is now the Russian Federation. A number of videos commemorating Laika can be found on Youtube. This is my favorite.  It is in Spanish, which I speak a little, enough to understand.  


The story of Laika moves me to tears.  Why?  What is it about dogs?  Americans spend millions of dollars on dogs.  According to the Humane Society of America, there are nearly 80 million owned dogs in the US; 39% of American households include at least one dog.  Less than 20% are adopted or rescued dogs. Dog owners can buy health insurance for their dogs (personally, I think pet insurance should be taxed and the revenue used to support human health care needs.  But I digress).  So isn't that terribly American, reflecting all that is wrong with America, to lavish love on dogs rather than care for our economically and socially vulnerable neighbors?

For much of the world dogs are vermin, good only for cleaning offal off the streets.  In San Lucas Toliman, in Guatemala, I observed that dogs ran loose in packs. Dogs are not pets there,  they are not neutered or spayed, and are valued mostly as alarm systems.  When walking the dirt or cobbled streets of this town, one has to carry stones to keep dogs away. It is illegal in most American cities for dogs to run loose.


What must we look like to much of the rest of the world! For many Muslims and North Africans, dogs are gross, dirty, next to pigs. The idea of kissing a dog (I kiss my dog, I admit it), is just, well, that's simply disgusting. My city, Minneapolis, is home large population of Somali immigrants, almost all of whom are Muslim. An elderly Somali woman in my neighborhood takes long walks every day.  If I am walking with my dog and she sees us, she will cross to other side of the street, probably to avoid the vermin (vermin that may bite) I have at the end of a retractable leash.   I now take my dog across the street when I see her walking our way, her gown and hajib flowing.  This woman is my neighbor and my elder, and I can show my respect to her by not imposing my dog on her.  In fact, I believe that dog owners should not impose their dogs on anyone, whether in person, or in terms of what the dog may leave on a lawn.  My dog is taught to heel, and I clean up behind her.  What we do for love, eh?

What is it with dogs and Americans (I'll leave the Europeans and Japanese out, they have their own neuroses with dogs)?  Part of it is affluence. Starving people are not going to feed their dogs, much less dress them in silly sweaters, give them treats, train them to do stupid tricks, or enroll them in doggie day care.  They may eat their dogs, though.

Affluence is only part of it.  I am being unkind when I suggest that the American love of dogs is pathological.  Dogs play an important cultural role in the US, and dogs have been "man's best friend" for westerners for centuries. Films and novels  such as Old Yeller, Because of Winn Dixie, and of course, Lassie, are important part of our popular culture.

I think that part of the appeal of dogs is that interpersonal relationships, especially intimate ones, can be difficult for many Americans. Loneliness is common. About half of US marriages end in divorce.  I have heard more than one woman my age say that they have given up on romantic or intimate relationships with men, and now prefer to turn to their dogs for companionship. One friend told me that "your dog will never leave you."  For a single woman living alone, a dog can be a source of protection as well as companionship.  Statistics released in June by the Pew Research Center's Social and Demographic Trends Project indicate that 20% of American women in their forties are childless by choice, a profound demographic change. I am one of that number, in my forties and childless.  Childlessness has its advantages, but it is also a loss, at least for me. I will never know the joy, pleasure, pain, and challenge of loving another human being the way my parents loved. me. They are not enough to fill the hole, but dogs are creatures that respond positively to care and nurture.




It seems rather sad and pathetic.  Is it true that many people of the most powerful nation in the world have such difficulties connecting to other human beings that they give up and turn to their dogs?  I don't know. It's not all bad,though.  Dogs can be bridges between strangers - more than one man has gotten himself a puppy as a "chick magnet."  Dogs provide support and assistance to people with disabilities, including psychiatric disabilities, allowing those individuals to lead more independent lives.


Laika the Cosmomutt (one of her nicknames) brings me great pleasure and I won't part with her. In difficult times, the fact that she is dependent upon me for her wellbeing has gotten me out of bed and into the world.  I don't know if dogs are capable of love as we humans understand it, but they certainly are capable of attachment, and she is attached to me.  She is so delighted when I come home she can hardly restrain herself from dancing around, and yes, I'll admit, that's an ego boost. She gives and takes affection freely.   I'd miss her dearly if I were to lose her.